


God Help the Outcasts

by SoundedSummer



Series: The Purge [1]
Category: Gundam Wing, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 06:16:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2955302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoundedSummer/pseuds/SoundedSummer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quatre Winner is a philanthropist, and thinks that he is giving back more than his fair share to a war torn community. Until Harry Potter, the war torn leader of a destroyed world kidnaps him from a coffee shop and shows him otherwise</p>
            </blockquote>





	God Help the Outcasts

**Author's Note:**

> This was the beginning of a group of stories I wrote for a shuffle challenge. They are all in the same world, and its not a pretty one. This was started about four years ago, and is only just now being continued. 
> 
> This entry is based off the song "God Help the Outcasts" from the hunchback of Notre Dame soundtrack.

_I don't know if you can hear me, or if you're even there._  
I don't know if you would listen to a gypsy's prayer.  
Yes I know I'm just an outcast I shouldn't speak to you,  
still I see your face and wonder  
were you once an outcast too

Quatre Winner cursed under his breath as the skies above him opened and rain came pouring down, skidding into the coffee shop across from the new Winner Enterprises building. It was situated directly in what was once the Wizarding District back during the second Wizarding War.

Quatre remembered that mess, remembered the despair and destruction the insular society had caused both their world and Quatre's own, in their insistence that they handle their own problems.

More people had died in a six month period than in the entire Eve Wars. Quatre was glad that he had been on the committee to decide their fate, people just couldn't be trusted with that type of power. It was too dangerous and too deadly.

He didn't regret forcing their government to disband, he didn't regret rounding all the 'wands' the ESUN could get their hands on and sending them into furnaces, he didn't regret forcing them to live as normal people.

Everyone was safer that way, and that's what he'd fought for.

“Master Winner.” Tom, the bartender, had owned this shop back when it was part of the wizarding world, and Quatre didn't react to the look of disdain on his face, just nodding and heading towards his normal seat at the back.

The feeling of hatred was harder to ignore, but Quatre shouldered on. He'd gotten stronger over the years, and he wasn't going to crumple under pressure of any sort. It was still raw, even five years after the Purge, and Quatre knew that it would take time for the others to realize that the Committee had done what they had too, to ensure everyone's survival. Wizard and Mundane alike.

Sinking into his seat, Quatre shrugged out of his wet coat and laid it over the back of the wooden chair, taking his coffee from the redhead with a smile.

She just stared over his head, keeping her fingers from touching his and stalked off when her job was done, Quatre's smile dimming as he sighed and pushed the coffee away, his mood dampening.

Five years, and he'd never gotten so much as a smile out of anyone who was once part of That World.

He'd only done what he had to, couldn't they see that? If it wasn't for him, and Lady Une, they all would have been murdered or rounded up into concentration camps. Those were just a few of the nicer ideas being bandied around the capitol at the time.

Why couldn't they let it go?

“You don't get it, do you?” Quatre blinked as a hand came into view, a separate cup of coffee held tightly as its owner sat carefully into the chair across from him without so much as a by your leave.

With shaggy black hair and dim green eyes Quatre recognized him immediately without having to see the faded scar on his forehead. Quatre’s muscles tensed as he readied himself for a blow.

Harry James Potter, one of the leaders of the War that lead to the Purge, was well known in both worlds, and he'd been one of the strongest advocates for keeping Magic alive.

He also came into this shop every day, though Quatre had always tried to time his arrivals so they did not cross paths.

Quatre didn't want to be any more cruel than he had to be. If this wasn't the only coffee shop in a twenty mile radius, he would have avoided it all together, but his addiction kept that from being an option of any kind.

“I don't get what, Mr. Potter?” sliding his corporate face on, Quatre took a sip from his coffee and studied the man across from him as he would a competing corporate shark. Harry Potter was still a leader in his community, and Quatre would not do him even more of a disservice by treating him as anything other.

Potter just shook his head, a cold chuckle coming from his lips.

“Why we still hate you.”

Quatre blinked, setting his cup down slowly, leaning back in his seat.

“I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean, Mr. Potter.” He was beginning to think that he should have taken Trowa up on his insistence of drinking tea instead of coffee, his assistant made very nice tea.

It wasn't worth this, to come in here every day. His presence was doing more harm than good, to all of them. He began to stand up, sliding his coat over one arm and starting to head towards the door, when Potter reached out and grabbed a hold of his arm with a grip like steel, halting him in his tracks. Quatre froze, the emotions he had been trying to damp flooding through him like an electric current, causing his breath to come in sharp little gasps as he tried to get himself under control.

Grief pain loneliness pain pain pain

“Harry! Harry why are you touching him!” The little redhead, Ginevra Quatre absently recollected, stepped in between them, breaking their contact with a shove. Quatre stumbled back, his hand to his heart as he looked at the man across from him.

Quatre had felt pain before, he'd felt loneliness, but he'd never felt anything...anything close to that level of emotion in his life. Even when he'd destroyed a colony, he'd never felt that strongly.

“I'm trying to make him understand, Ginny. He still doesn't, none of them do. And unless we can make them understand, things will never change.” Potter had his hands on the woman's shoulders, running them up and down her arms in a soothing gesture. “I'll be alright.”

Ginny turned her head to look over her shoulder, giving him a glare from bright blue eyes that promised pain if the blond tried anything, before gently breaking contact between herself and Potter, stepping back and wiping her hands off on the apron that was tied around her too small waist.

“I hope you know what you're doing, Harry, I really do.” She walked away without another word, heading towards a pair of shabbily dressed ladies that had just walked in, showing them to a seat and helping the frailer of the two into her chair when she quailed.

“Come with me.” It wasn't a request, and Quatre just followed meekly as Potter lead them towards the back of the pub and into a run down garden. The Winner Heir recognized it immediately, as well as the hole in the brick wall surrounding the place, feeling his skin tingle as Potter lead them through it.

Diagon Alley.

Magic still thrived in this area, it had carried it too long and too much for any of the technology they had developed to get rid of it, and so London was twice the size it had once been. 

There had been enough destruction caused by falling 'spells' and hidden locations suddenly appearing where they hadn't been before that it had taken every bit of diplomacy Quatre and Lady Une possessed to keep mass genocide off the table, yet again. 

“Where do you want me to go?” Quatre said it to make noise and break up the silence surrounding them, the hand he shoved in his pocket wrapped tightly around the gun he always kept on his person. If it came down to a fight, he just hoped that the ambient magic in the air wasn't enough to mess with the technology.

'stupid, stupid stupid,' Quatre thought to himself. 'You should never have come here, Winner, Heero is going to kick your ass when you get back.' No one knew where he was, there was no back up just a few minutes away, he was on his own as things went south like it was almost certain to do.

Did he have a death wish?

“Here, Mr. Winner. I want you to see what you, and the others on your precious committee, have done. Not everyone was guilty, but you painted us all with the same brush. You proved Him correct, in the end, so the lives lost were even more in vein. I wonder sometime if this was his plan all along, and the rest was just...distraction.”

Potter turned kept looking straight ahead as he made his way down the alley, refusing to look at the remnants of his world, while Quatre couldn't help but take in everything around him.

An Owl Emporium, an ice cream shop advertising Blood Cream as the latest craze, Robes for the Everyday Witch, it was like something from a fairy story.

But it wasn’t. It was real, and it was terrifying.

“Stay close, it’s dark back here. Torches can only do so much.” Reaching back and taking his arm again, Potter began to pull him at a quicker pace towards a darker, more dilapidated section of the alley, sputtering and burning with torches all the way down.

It was the first sign of life that Quatre had found since they stepped into this...graveyard. Potter stopped at a blocked off door, wooden boards keeping a worn door shut.

Quatre could tell that it had been boarded shut long before the Purge.

Potter knocked quickly, three short raps, and waited, the rain that was still steadily falling not phasing him.

“Password.” A weak voice asked from the other side, and Harry blinked over at Quatre, and weighed him with his eyes. Quatre didn't know why, but he felt that being found wanting would not be a good thing.

“Torjurs Pur.”

“He's your responsibility.” with those cryptic words, the door swung open smoothly, too smoothly for so old of a door, and Quatre felt the hair at the back of his neck rise.

Someone here was still using magic, even though it was considered an automatic death sentence in almost every nation of the Earth Sphere.

“Come, if you want to truly see what your actions have caused.” Harry stepped through without waiting for Quatre, disappearing into the darkness beyond, giving Quatre the chance to decide.

Quatre stepped through a few seconds behind him, the door closing with a solemn thud.

“I'm glad you followed. I would hate to have been wrong about you, Ginny would have never let me live it down.” Potter's voice was amused as it floated towards him out of the darkness, lights suddenly flaring to life around the two of them, giving an eerie glow to their surroundings. Quatre could see forms moving in the shadows beyond the light, coughs and groans of pain reaching his ears.

And the emotions....it was like being in the War, all over again. Fear and hatred, anger and pain, it swarmed over him like a tsunami until he was able to erect his shields again.

“Where...where are we?” Quatre didn't like the hoarse tone to his voice, forcing himself to swallow and wet his dry throat. He was a Gundam Pilot, he wasn't going to quail in the face of what he had caused.

“We're in...a sanctuary. What used to be Borgin and Burkes. What's left of the British Wizarding World is here.” Harry moved towards the forms, the lights floating with him, and Quatre absently noticed the sweat that formed on the other man's temples, strain showing in his eyes.

Potter was the one that was still practicing magic, though it didn't look easy.

But why?

“I still don't understand why you brought me here.” Potter sighed and turned to face him fully, the lights floating away to surround a small cot.

Quatre's eyes widened, his blood pounding in his ears as he stared at what he was saying.

What..was going on?

“Ella is five.” Potter's voice was cold, but Quatre barely paid it any attention.

This..couldn't be a little girl. She was only skin and bones, half the size she should be if Potter's admittance of her age was correct. With red hair hanging limply down to her chin, and large dark eyes sunken into her skull, she looked like a bad caricature of a human child.

“Why has she not been taken to the hospital? All citizens of the ESUN are guaranteed medical assistance, no matter what income the family has.” Potter scoffed, shaking his head rapidly as a woman darted out of the shadows and picked the little girl up from her cot, hauling her back into the darkness. Quatre got a glimpse of blue eyes and blinding blond hair before the figure disappeared completely, without so much as a word of protest from the child.

“The Mundane's can't help her. No one can, not anymore.” Potter crossed his arms across his chest, his muscles trembling slightly as he stared at the empty cot, “She's dying, and its all the Mundane's fault. Your fault, I should say. As you were the one who spearheaded the massacre.” 

Quatre blinked.

“How?” It was the most intelligent thing that Quatre could force himself to say, his mind whirring towards all the possible ways that Mundanes had been the cause of this. He couldn't come up with any, inoculations against diseases that all mundane children received at birth had been mandatory, and government assistance programs had been initiated as soon as the Purge was completed.

There was no reason, absolutely none, that former witches and wizards could not be integrated smoothly and seamlessly into the rest of society. Quatre had looked at it from every angle before he supported any action, it would have been genocide if he hadn't.

The Purge did not cause this.

“It’s Magic. The lack of Magic, rather. Ella was one of the first born after the Purge, born into a Pureblood family with creature blood. She was normal for the first few years, though a little quieter than anyone would have expected with her family, but we just assumed it was because of the trauma and shock, everyone was suffering then.” Potter took a deep breath, “And then...she just stared wasting away. We'd seen it in a few adults, most of them purebloods from the oldest families, but it had never affected a child before. And now, there isn't a child born to a magical family that it isn't affecting.”

He glared at Quatre, his anger causing his green eyes to shine with his own inner light.

“You caused this. Instead of working with us, you destroyed everything that made us who and what we were! Magic wasn't just a force we used, it kept us alive, and because of you, our children won't make it past their tenth birthday. If they make it that long.”

Quatre staggered back before he collected himself, studying Potter closely. The taint of a lie wasn't in the air, Harry James Potter believed that everything he was speaking was the truth, and that more than anything fueled Quatre's actions.

If they were somehow responsible for an entire race of people losing their children, suffering, then Quatre wasn't going to stand for it. Forcing them to live like Mundanes, the only inconvenience being adjusting to technology and life without the convenience of being able to get what you want immediately was one thing, and there was nothing that hurt his conscious about it, but if what Potter said was true, then it was murder.

Plan and simple.

And Quatre wouldn't condone murder.

“Show me more.”

And Harry did.


End file.
